


Is That It's You

by frogy



Category: Latter Days (2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-04
Updated: 2011-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogy/pseuds/frogy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you and that you are standing in the doorway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is That It's You

**Author's Note:**

> For Porn Battle XII, prompt "kitchen." Title and summary are from the song "Going to Georgia" by The Mountain Goats. In my head, it's a sequel to [Afternoon Delights](http://archiveofourown.org/works/153548).

Aaron gets home later than Christian these days. He's on swing shift at the hospital, while Christian comes home straight from work more often than not. He doesn't go out anymore. He doesn't need to look for what he already has at home and the house is dark and quiet when Aaron unlocks the front door. He shuts it gently behind him, not wanting to disturb the peace, and slips off his shoes.

Aaron pads into the kitchen, blindly through the dark, navigating by memory. Nighttime light spills in through the shades painting the kitchen in stripes. The bulb in the fridge is bright in comparison when Aaron opens it. There's a plastic container with left over pasta on the top shelf that wasn't there when he went to work. Christian must have left it for him. Aaron takes the container out, closing the fridge, and pops the lid off. He pulls some noodles out with his fingers, tipping his head back to eat them.

It's good. He can just eat it all like this, not sure it's worth the effort of a microwave and getting a fork. He leans against the counter, looks out the window, thinks about it.

"Hey," Christian interrupts his reverie. Christian is standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Aaron turns his head to look at him.

Christian yawns, stretches. Aaron's never gotten to the point where he feels comfortable going to sleep naked, unless it's proceeded by sex, but he'll never discourage the habit in Christian. Christian brings his hand up to rub at the back of his neck and the motion highlights the muscled line of his torso. In this light, he's erotica, not porn. Aaron will never get over the sight.

"Hey. Sorry I woke you."

"Mmm," Christian mumbles. "I was going to wait up for you."

"You know you don't have to."

"I know, I want to." Christian leaves the doorway, walks over to Aaron. He presses in close against Aaron's back, arms bracketing him, pushing him up against the counter. Christian's naked skin is sleep warm to Aaron, even through his scrubs. "I like going to sleep with you," Christian says into the junction of Aaron's shoulder, his nose trailing along Aaron's neck.

Christian takes half a step back, pulling at Aaron. Aaron yields, leaves dinner on the counter and turns around.

Christian kisses him, hands moving to the hem of Aaron's work scrubs to pull of his shirt. It's in that order too, so they're caught in a tangled mess of a kiss. Aaron separates their mouths with a stuttered exhale that would be a laugh if there were any sound with it, bringing his hands up to get his shirt the rest of the way off himself.

Christian wastes no time recapturing Aaron's lips and Aaron's hands, putting them down against the counter edge behind them pushing so it's clear he wants them left there.

"Let me," Christian says. He moves to smooth his palms down Aaron's sides. Aaron's hands stay where they are. Christian follows his hands down, kisses Aaron's neck, licks at his pec, mouths at a nipple.

"Y- yea," Aaron stutters. He's been half-hard since Christian appeared in the doorway.

Christian's fingers dig into Aaron's side as he sinks the rest of the way to his knees, holding on for balance. Christian kisses along Aaron's stomach, wet, open-mouth, tongue dipping into his bellybutton and Aaron's fingers flex against the counter-top in counterpoint.

It's easy, Christian tugs at the drawstring of Aaron's pants, and they untie, falling off his hips to pool around his ankles. Christian pulls Aaron's boxer-briefs off, impatient. He leans in to mouth at Aaron's cock, hands still moving the skin-warmed cotton down Aaron's legs.

Christian is good at this, doesn't need his hands to take Aaron all the way in, but he doesn't go there yet, just teasing, mouth open, turning his head back and forth, letting his lips and the very tip of his tongue run over the head of Aaron's cock as he moves.

What's probably seconds feels like an eternity until Christian abandons Aaron's boxer-briefs to bring his hands back up his legs. Christian wraps one hand around the base of Aaron's dick, finally, finally takes him into his mouth. There's no need for tricks, the wet, hot suction is perfect. Christian's other hand grips at Aaron's hip, settling into a rhythm.

Between one blink and the next Aaron realizes how filthy they sound. Christian's wet slurping is practically echoing in the still of the night. His own breaths a harsh, stuttering sound. It's amazing. Aaron closes his eyes against the familiar site to listen.

He is getting close, grip spasming against the hard edge of the counter, as he struggles to hold on, the surface slick under his sweaty palms. The muscles in his stomach tremble and his hips buck more and more as his control slips. Christian lets him push further and further in, letting his hand slide down to cup at his balls, then run a finger down behind them and back again.

He knows it's comfortable in the house, but Aaron's hot, sweat collecting at his hairline and the small of his back. Christian slips the hand on his hip back,fingertips just teasing at the crack of his ass, not enough to be anything more than what it is.

When Aaron comes it's not any one thing that pushes him over the edge, it's everything. Christian's mouth and his hands and Christian himself, swallowing Aaron down in a way that he's only recently started letting Aaron reciprocate.

Aaron is glad he's gripping the counter now, legs shaky as Christian makes a return trip up, stopping to kiss and lick and suck at his stomach, his chest, his collarbone. Until finally, Aaron can crane his neck forward and kiss Christian.

The kiss is sweet, gentle. Christian retrieves Aaron's hands from the counter, twining their fingers together. Every time the kiss threatens to get deeper, Christian pulls back to peck at Aaron with a kiss, kiss, kiss. "What do you want?" Aaron asks against Christian's lips.

"Nothing." Christian kisses him again before leaning back. "Just come to bed." Christian moves away in pieces, a step back separates their bodies, and a turn unclasps one hand, until it's just the fingertips of two hands sliding apart as Christian walks to their bedroom.

"Okay," Aaron says, bending over to pull up his boxer-briefs and pants. He already feels how tired he is making itself known in his bones. He wants to climb into bed and slide under the covers, curl up with Christian and go to sleep.

Christian pauses in the doorway again without looking back. "Leave them there." And then he's gone.

Aaron stands, stepping out of the pile of his clothes, leaving them there on the kitchen floor, and follows.


End file.
